


Circus Celene

by Bad_Monkey_in_the_Night



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Ghosts, Mystery, Tragic Love, Vegebul, creepy circus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 04:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16632803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bad_Monkey_in_the_Night/pseuds/Bad_Monkey_in_the_Night
Summary: as young Vegeta enters the famous circus city Celene, he happens upon an enticing figure..and finds what he has lost.





	Circus Celene

**Author's Note:**

> This short fic is a gloomy and dark thing.. you have been warned. Also It's the spontaneous fruits of a cooperation with Nala1588! ( text me. comic her - to be found on her patreon :) )  
> We suggest this playlist while you read - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYpw-CDWcgc&t=0s&index=2&list=PLcm6-3NtJPiwn2uvGxVqOC9QoQrOn4KAS  
> I hope you can forgive us.

The year is 1912.

The wheels of time shift their metallic teeth, and with their force can either make or break a man. One can only hope, that this time fate will favor Vegeta.That this frownfull, troubled man gains freedom, for he is slave to a gruesome place. But what better means of escape can there be, than a carnival?

CIRCUS CELENE

the signs read.

Eyes grow wide wherever the colourful wagons pass. The much fabled Wandering Carnival is in town! A thing of such magnitude it's almost too much for Westport. What treasures does it bring? The people ask. What beasts are in these wagons? What magic? Will there be Acrobats? Punch-and-Judy? Sweets? Firebreathers? Freakish folk? Strongmen?

Not only the childrens hearts beat faster at the thought.

Upon entering, one must gape at all that's happening at once. Everybody instantly joins a colourful parade of town and circus folk that defies the common law.

The downtrodden and the prospering form a truce for a glimpse at the beautiful madness. Marvel and laughter chime wherever tricks are presented by the mingling performers in their brilliant costumes.

Dreamy lantern lights string along and across large canvas tents like a spider web –their colour vibrant as if freshly painted.

The artists themselves, jugglers, clowns, giants and dwarfs, are draped in beautiful shapely costumes -no riches spared, it seemed,to make them kings of their kind.

A masterly crafted merry-go-round is crowning heart of the market. Shiny wooden horses dance around and around on their spiraling polesto jolly melodies.

Our focus turns to Vegeta. His gaze drifts over people of all sorts. Painted faces peek here and there, and to his confusion, all of them look happy. They smile and laugh. They're eager for more.

To see the show:

a daring trapeze act, with fire even. Only he's not here for that.

Our unsuspecting lad stares wondering if there are tightropes taut hidden from sight. For on the rooftop of the roundabout, above the childish equestrians, sits a dancer.

She sits with a calm demeanor as her hair plays in the wind. A beautiful face, he notes, and the viridian colour of her hair frames it delicately as it falls to her sides, artfully swirling curls in a neatly pinned up do.

Her costume is unusual. The short dress, with tulip skirt and shoulderless bust, is ruffled up, small tears show here and there, as if worn through many seasons. Ribboned shoes hug her small feet.

 

She is not cheerful as the others, he notes, as a memory cascades from the turret and towards him. Her features remind him ..of what? Or who? Clearly a mistaking, a figment. He doesn't know any dancers, pretty or not. This is the first time a proper Circus is in town. And it will be his way out. Back at the large canvas dome, shrill trumpets beckon inside, into the circus city, the heart of festivity. The show is about to begin.

The dancer, however, is gone.

~~~~o0o~~~~

Perplexed and curious our young man searches the crowd, for an explaination, or for her waving hair. People are pouring towards the tent entrance now. Mothers are grabbing their children and hinder his sight with colourgay balloons and hats.

But there!

He spies her silhouette absconding in the crowd, under a delicate ombrelle.

~~~~o0o~~~~

Way into the circus world he goes. The music and the crowd swallows him. Tent after tent, masked and painted faces laugh to his sides. Until one wooden door.

The sign reads:

-Kabinett-

Without much shilly-shally Vegeta follow. As though being pulled.

~~~~o0o~~~~

Silence settles inside. The dim lights glow in a cool contrast. Rows of long mirrors intend to confuse. Vegetas dark contures menacingly reflect in all shapes and forms. He cares little for such dissipation. While some call him strapping, or handsome, behind his back, that's not what he sees. The illusion intrigues him, however. He wants to learn these arcana, and more,once he is save, away from this town. Once..

He places his hand on the mirror in front of him. A warm shiver unvoluntarily bolts through him. He can almost feel the hand on the other side of the mirror.

Not his hand, but hers.

~~~~o0o~~~~

The path leads further from the crowd, as the dancer still shies away from him. He needs to know why. Something about her behaviour makes him nervous.

Vegeta isn't easily intrigued, and he doesn't like it.

Along the trail of wooden caravans, torches mark the area. It's small tents and wagons, back here. Resting places. But the circus is alive tonight, so nobody else is around.

Only Vegeta. And the woman that chose to play this game of cat - and - mouse. Suddenly, a door swings open. In the back of a long wagon, but noone exists. Only a soft breeze lets the torchlights dance. Vegeta inhales deeply.

The smell of fire is intimate to him. His whole life, he'd worked with fire. Touched it. Breathed it. Danced with it. It's smoky tang soothes him,like a cradle almost.

~~~~o0o~~~~

Upon entering, fireflies of dust and ash glow in the flaming lights beyond his shadow in the door. The nightwind sighes and sings to him. It swipes through windowcracks in an old melody, haunting and taunting, as though he should have listened more carefully. Voiceless whispers drag a newspaper along the floor; yellowed and faded it rests at his feet. He picks it up. The pages are bleary, hard to read. Or perhaps it's his vision that's fading..It is becoming too hot to tell the difference.

Just as if smoke fills his vision.

~~~~o0o~~~~

An evil premonition claws into his gut. With coalblack gaze he rivets manically on the scorched over lines – hawking, needing, begging them to show what he is missing.

Where is she? Why is he here, in this place? And she is not.

He has no time, he suddenly realises. Around him shadows rise like specters. He needs to find her. On the paper in his hands there is a picture. A place in ruins on a meadow.

Vegeta pauses. He recognizes this place. His mind derails and screams.

… No ... No!

Everything comes back to him. As the paper crumbles from his hands, he knows the meaning of this place. And of this chase.

The wind reaps it from the depth of his scourged heart. Perhaps he knew all along. He just did not want to hear it. It was her, the dancer. Her. Her name was Bulma.

He'd recognized her because she was here with him, after all. She had been here. A suffocating, sanguinary dread forces him to his knees. No sound escapes his lips. No tears fall from him.

But he cries nonetheless.

_Massgrave marks Ides of March Countless Victims in Desastrous Circus Fire_

~~~~o0o~~~~

An undescribable feeling of happiness and light fills her up. Like butterflies it carries Bulma throught the narrow alleys between canvas and varda wagons. She is looking fo the one person she wants to tell first. Not bothering with loud and crude hassle happening in one of the tents - propably about drinking habits and loose hands -– Bulma has a feeling he'd be as far away as possible.

He didn't like these kind of fights.

~~~~o0o~~~~

She finds him past the animal quarters,in the storage camp.

Bulma can't help it. An instant smile hits her fine features at the sight of him. It is a private thing, smiled only for him.

He is preparing for the show, a bandana as only protection from the paraffin. She pauses.

If he is in a foul mood, tellling him now could ruin more than that precious moment.

The future frightenes her, but for once in her life it also feels completely right. Noone could take this from her. This happiness.

But what would it mean to him? There is no point in pondering. Not with this one.

„Vegeta?“

His dark eyes relax upon her.

She always says his name in a manner Vegeta thought only angels could speak.

She oftentimes surprises and riddles him with her sunny disposition, when it takes everything he has to not break the directors nose, or neck, the way he treats her. Like mere cattle.

While in truth, she might be his greatest asset.

~~~~o0o~~~~

Vegeta waits for her to speak. Unlike every other time since he first met her, she has no words for him. Confusion at what's happening, he blinks. Once. Twice.

In the absence of an explaination, his broad rough hand remains where she had placed it, as if to learn her secrets from her soft belly. He swears her smile grows wider. He didn't know it could.

Wha- What..?

Was she saying...A shaky breath escapes him.

Those skyblue pools where he always looses himself, they really are brighter, today.

Without escape, he captures her lips. A flood of feelings, not all of them welcome, rob young Vegeta of an answer. Bulmas kiss a laughter, like a somersault of happiness it rolls into his mouth with the play of her tongue. And he realises the truth, that his lover was with his child.

They would be a family. Like a dream.

It felt like a dream.

~~~~o0o~~~~

„He makes you miserable, Bulma! And you, you work harder than ever! What do you think will happen, once-“

Again, the director had laid his filthy paws where they didn't belong. Vegeta knows she handles the gropy director the only way that worked. By making herself irreplacable for the show. Him on the other hand,the director ignores completely these days. The man is too much a coward to face Vegeta up close. And Vegeta is too aware of the consequences should he repay the man as he deserved. What's more, he's forcing her to perform, even though the pregnancy makes her dizzy and sickalmost every day.

„I know..but - i can't just leave! He's helped me, even if money is all he cares about..This place made me who i am.They found me, when..“

„Stop this. Stop pretending it doesn't bother you! You think i should stand aside and let it happen?I'm no choir boy Bulma. You know that! If he ever touches you again, i will kill him!You hear me?“

Her blue eyes widen at those words. He's serious. She can feel his anger like an flaming animal, [l](http://lurking.By/)urking.

By the time everybody knew that he and Bulma were together, she'd prayed the director would change his manners, and keep his distance. He hadn't changed much,Vegetas hot temper be damned.

Because they really couldn't do a damn thing about it. Except leave. And deep down she wasn't sure of that either.

She'd never seen Vegeta quite so [e](http://enraged.It/)nraged. It hit her like a blow, sometimes, how anger in it's nature travesties most people - but not Vegeta.

Him, it made crystalclear. It is no wonder she'd fallen for him. He excercises his right to rage, like the world owes him everything.

He is the first person to give her hope like that. He has as many dreams as she.

He is awfully clever, and gritty as much as [s](http://she.How/)he.

How could they spent their lives here any longer, while the world out there is waiting for them?

„I'm serious, Bulma..we need to leave. I won't risk your life, both your lifes, for this vile, ruthless devil.“

Bulma nods in tears. He's right. Leaving is the only right choice.

To really start a life, to be a family, with a home and maybe even a garden, she'd always wanted a garden, with roses, their child could go to school, and they could both work for better money.

„..where should we go?We can't just walk out of here in the light of day.“

Vegeta appears before her blurry vision. Was she sobbing? Taking her face into his palms with a frown, he kisses her, wet tears and rosy lips.

„Easy. I have a plan.“

~~~~o0o~~~~

But all plans have flaws. Especially if they are forged behind thin walls.

The stages of a circus, you see, are no marvelling tabula rasa, they cannot ban the darkness, they're like a fallacious tohuwabohu for the senses - but behind the curtain lurks the same misery and hardship, the same heartbreak it seeks to ridicule with laughter - if one glimpses too closely, its machinations show their ugly teeth, and the magic is gone.

So when the night of their escape is near, we find the circus folk withdrawn, where they would usually be unperturbed.

Vegeta barely notices. His mind is with Bulma.

She needs more rest before they disappear - they have to hide in a downright honky-tonk until the coast is clear for them. He'd actually booked them a passage.

His history of pit fights may have come in handy. There is no telling where they'd settle.

The horizon is wide.

He may need to earn new money where they go, for their rings. He'd merely given her his promise – in his way.

A tradition of his people he'd never thought he'd partake in - he'd carved her figure in rosewood, with and his beside it. A marriage carving, only quite smaller than they usually were. It had easily fitted in her hand. He'd added a greenstone for the child, too.

Vegeta walks towards the wagon camp. He hasn't seen Bulma since yesterday. A spark of doubt mixes with his pondering. Was it possible she'd dump him, last-minute?

But that can't be.

She was his Bulma. And she'd taken the carving. She could have denied him. Then it would have all been just a dream. But it wasn't.

They would be a family.

~~~~o0o~~~~

His minds comes to a halt when he finds himself confronted with 5 of the performers.

„Haven't you heard, boy?“

„What?!“

He's got no time for that now. He needs to find her.

They stare at him.

These people can be so annoyingly creepy, he thinks to himself.

Thank god we leave this circus.

„She's gone, Vegeta.“

Vegeta wonders what this has to do with him. Who?

„If you don't mind, i-“

„Vegeta, it's Bulma! She..-she's dead! She suddenly had cramps and began to bleed and all we could do is bring her to the monastry outside town, but she was already too far gone. It was so much blood..“

Vegetas heart stops beating.

This makes no sense, he thinks, before everything blurs before him.

It takes him ages, centuries,to realise the meaning of their words.

No..No, it can't be. No!

He doesn't look up. He can't see anything. Only her smile when they last met, when he'd held her close to smell her ocean hair.While her fingers tingled across his skin.

„I'm sorry, lad. She called your name, you know..“

It's all gone..And they stand here and tell him..like a talk about the weather..just like that.

Like they are emptyhearted, emptyminded creatures.

  
  


He should have known.

She'd had strong cramps these last weeks.

She shouldn't have performed at all.But the director wouldn't hear. He hadn't cared for her..

„Where is she?Where is she now?“

„She's gone, Vegeta.“

„Her body is already in the earth,by the monastry.“

How can this be. her body was still warm yesterday..They'd buried her, without telling him.

Noone had bothered telling him.

Not even the gods would be so cruel..only vicious, envious men that walk the earth.

Everything Vegeta had wanted to protect was gone now.

The face of the director plays before his mind over and over again.The way he'd used her. Defiled her with his hands.The way he'd killed her with his ruthlessness.

Vegeta feels a burning, all devouring hate inside him. There is no room for mourning. There is no sense in mourning. Because there is no sense at all to her death. She is stolen from life. From him.

They'd pay for it.

They'd all pay for it.

~~~~o0o~~~~

Bulma tries to calm herself. This could be fixed. She could get out of here. She'd find a way to loose those shackles.Vegeta won't leave without her. So their plan won't work.

They can't keep them apart. Never!

Maybe he'd find her here. She's hurt, but she doesn't know where. Everything's still blurry.

They'd suffocated her with something..disgusting. The cloth is stuck between her teeth. She tries to spit but she can't get it out. The filthy taste is all over her mouth. A Wave of nausea makes her gag and cough.

No doubt by now Vegeta would be looking for her, she thinks.

And holds his figure closer in her hands.

Her head hurts like hell, so Bulma lies down and tries to calm herself with the pictures of a future time.

Of all the great things that they will see, and do, once they are free. She rubs the small greenstone version of a child with her thumb.

They will be free. Of that she's sure.

  
  


After what feels like hours, Bulma notes the unrest outside. And the smoke.

She'd tried to free herself without success. Those metal cuffs are awfully strong. Damnit!

There is no way this is coincidence.This can't be good.

Some people are screaming, although everything is muffled inside here. She tries to move toward the wall of the wagon. Create noise, she thinks.

And starts screaming into the cloth.

The sounds of people in panic turns into a choir.

Oh god..no. What's happening?!

She can't see outside! She can't even move to stand. She hears roaring noises like thunder.

And she feels it. It's getting hot.

  
  


Smoke is creeping into her quarter now. The luggage room of the director was the last place anyone would come looking for her. She needs to get out of here.

She can't breathe.

~~~~o0o~~~~

Vegeta understands now. They'd lied to him. All of them had been in on this.

They'd proven him right. They were honourless lowlifes.

And they'd payed with their lifes.

He'd payed with his own. And hers.

To take her from him, not once but twice..

Vegeta's anger had dissipated with the flames. There was nothing left now, but his shame.

Vegeta finally feels the tears run from his eyes.

He hears her voice still. Feels her hand on his shoulder. When he turns around, she's there.

She's been here with him all along. Bulma is always there when he turns.

Vegeta breaks down into her arms, and he cries.

And everything around them looses meaning, while they hold each other close.

 

As the wind carries dancing sparks to the stars, it remains only to ask, are now our lovers free?

FIN

 

 


End file.
